Zero Tolerance

Well, I was rather succinctly informed that blogging involved updating at least once a week. I don't know who came up with that rule or why, but here I am. :-) Those of you who are fellow bloggers, do you ever notice that sometimes, there's just nothing to say? It's not that nothing is happening -- it's just that there's nothing to say about it.

It's been one of those winters. It's been dark, dreary and gray . . . . a time of depression and grief. The grief has lessened but the depression really hasn't. I've let old habits creep in, habits that take away my self-confidence and ability to function, habits that I lean on to stay anxiety and stress.

Currently, I'm rather ill with a nasty case of bronchitis. As soon as I can breathe without hacking up a lung, I'll be making my way to the shoe store for my first ever pair of running shoes and then a friend and I (both human and four-legged) will be starting to run. I've heard that not only does running help with anxiety and stress, but that it's very relaxing and healthy. I've never been much of a runner, even though I can run. My legs don't get tired and my lungs don't give out -- I quite simply get bored with the motion of running. I've been told running with a partner helps with that.

As I've slipped into a funk and my anxiety and depression levels have rose, my general demeanor and outlook have taken a nose-dive. I've found myself being short, waspish and irritable more often than not. I've found myself challenging KYOTKGUY, questioning his commands and just generally being unsubmissive. I haven't directly disobeyed but as I look back, my tendency has been leaning towards a quiet rebellion.

He put a stop to that a couple of days ago. While I remember it as coming out the clear blue, the truth is that he had plenty of prerogative to do exactly as he did -- he turned me over his knee and he spanked me HARD, harder than I've been spanked in quite some time. Not only did he spank hard, he spanked long, far longer than the point where I had no resistance left. He informed me that he'd do this 3 times a day if necessary, but that we were going to be back on track. There was a zero tolerance policy in place and I was going to start back on a healthy system of living and I wasn't going to run myself ragged trying to avoid the grieving process or general emotion.

Less than 4 hours later, I found myself back over his knee for challenging him. I honestly don't know why I did it -- I didn't disobey, I just didn't obey quickly and readily. I drug my feet and hee and hawed around. I can't say that I've had a total and complete turn around -- my general sullen demeanor and fogginess have become slightly ingrained. I don't like feeling like this, though and I'm glad my attention was called to it. I don't always notice when I start to sink until I'm already buried. Thankfully, I've got a wonderful man who will not only pull me out, but help me dig.

I don't doubt that I'll be spanked plenty over the next few days. Habits die hard but I'm definitely looking forward to finding even ground again.